Volume 3, Issue 13
June 21 - July 4, 2001

FAIR WARNING
@
ORIGINAL PANCAKE HOUSE

8000 E. Belleview Avenue,
303-224-0093

6 am - 2 pm everyday

First of all, I would like to preface this by taking responsibility for not heeding the many ominous warnings I have received about eating breakfast in the Denver Tech Center. I should know better after eating at the place boasting the "best breakfast in DTC" and finding that it sucked worse than any Village Inn in the state. (Not to say all V.I.'s suck ... just the 100 or so I've been forced to eat in.) If that wasn't enough, then DTC breakfast dining mistake number two should have done it: trying to choke down the mushy roll of greasy meat and dried out eggs masquerading as the best "breakfast burrito in Denver" according to some local rag that is wrong 9 out of 10 times when they use the words "best of"-- that's not to say they lie, just a little confused about the facts. Either of these two events might have led a rational man (which I'm not) who thinks clearly (which I don't) to dine elsewhere (which I didn't). This brings us to the next chapter in our little dining misadventure.

The first time I went into DTC's Original Pancake Hole (not to say that a hole is always a bad thing) a while back should have been enough keep me out of the place for good. It went down like this: I was seated at the back of the room in an almost empty restaurant, which I didn't mind so much ... I mean, I know I don't exactly look like the usual DTC crowd (not that I am being accusatory) and besides I generally like being left alone to a point! I looked over my menu, laid it down and waited, and waited, and waited some more. Twenty-five minutes went by and no one even looked at my table-- no water, no coffee, no nothing! Finally I got up to leave, but not before reading the manager the riot act. For normal people that would have been enough, but if I had been normal I probably would have been served sooner (far be it from me to judge).

At any rate, normal I'm not, so back I went a few months later. We were seated quickly and served our coffees in a timely manner. I remember thinking to myself that my little rant to management had done some good. Yeah, that's what I thought all right, but I think a lot of things. Hell I can remember thinking that by the year 2000 we would be driving cars that floated on air! The reality is, the millennium's pinnacle of automotive success is driving a Lincoln Navigator with an "earth first" bumper sticker plastered to it (not that there's anything wrong with that).

As we waited, I took in my surroundings-- the conversations were the usual DTC, blah, blah, something about serial ports over here something about Ameritrade over there. After waiting for what seemed like an eternity we received our, uh, food. My "homemade blueberry waffle" was basically your garden-variety waffle on a plate with a little lump of blueberry paste accompanied by a side of runny eggs. We also had some Canadian bacon that resembled lunchmeat topped off with soggy toast. After picking through our two meager plates of 'food' and washing down all that was edible with a couple of coffees, and a glass of orange juice, I asked for the check, which came to $28! The major bummer about the whole thing was we could have had the same quality of food for half the price and twice as quick at any V.I. (not to insinuate that all V.I.'s serve bad food quickly and cheaply). So I paid the tab and lit outta there like my ass was on fire!

All of this could have been avoided if I had heeded the warnings, if I had read the writing on the wall, saw the signs or even listened to reason. So I am offering you the rare opportunity to learn through the mistakes of others. My pain need not be your pain; I implore you to heed my warning lest my battle be in vain. Go not into this place, nor eat of its fruits! So it is said; so shall it be! Go now and fear not, my congregation, for you have heard the word of the Bob!

And in light of the onslaught of rebuttal that was elicited by the Domo review, I'd like to take this opportunity to quell any ire I may have invoked. If your day trading techno yuppie 9-5 reality relies on eating breakfast in DTC, so that your liquid hi-ball power lunch doesn't cause you to get fired by telling your boss his toupee needs a chin strap, which makes you have to go home early to tell your soccer mom wife that you'll have to trade in the Navigators and move out of the six-bedroom four-bath house, only to find her with the pool cleaner, please be reassured that I in no way intended this article to single you out. I hold no ill will, or bitterness, toward any of you. F

Go not into this place, nor eat of its fruits! So it is said; so shall it be! Go now and fear not, my congregation, for you have heard the word of the Bob!

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